


Why Don't You Look At Me

by TheShipDen



Series: A Prince and His Guard [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lunar Chronicles, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Blood and Violence, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Connors a little shit, Flirting, Gavin Reed Needs a Hug, Gay Gavin Reed, Guard Gavin Reed, Lunar Chronicles - Freeform, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Upgraded Connor | RK900, Parent Amanda (Detroit: Become Human), Pining, Prince Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Prince Upgraded Connor | RK900, Protective Gavin Reed, Queen Amanda (Detroit: Become Human), Royalty, Simon needs a hug tbh, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, borderline obsession in a way???, nines is just that gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 16:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18627208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShipDen/pseuds/TheShipDen
Summary: He knows he has Gavin’s attention. He knows it and uses it; turning his head and fluttering his eyes at his guard from the doorway. He calls in the sweetest, most flirtatious voice he has, “Don’t leave me waiting.”He thrives on the blush he created across olive skin and retreats soon after.





	Why Don't You Look At Me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not gonna lie I completely forgot about this WIP until now, originally I was gonna make this longer but decided not to and leave it at this  
> also i added plot to this so hahaha thats a thing now  
> hope you enjoy!!

“I don’t believe you’re playing correctly,” Connor pouts. The glamour making his expression flawless, no wrinkles or color anywhere, clear skin that only partially hid his beauty marks. The look he always strived for was innocent, cute, and naive. Nines didn’t favor it entirely. 

“You just are a sore loser, my dear brother.” He taunts and flicks his wrist, legs crossed elegantly as he huffs a small cackle. “It is unbecoming of our future king to sport such childish expressions. You sully your reputation before it has a chance to build.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.” Connor muses, making a small show of fluttering his hand towards his face to gently cradle his own cheek. He’s looking down at their chess board and looking for an opening in Nines’ defense. “You only say such hurtful things to sway my focus.”

“Or,” Nines bats his eyes. Plucking a few ripe grapes from his platter and taking a nibble. “I’m simply trying to keep you humble before the crown rots what’s left inside your head.”

This is what they do; put on a seductive, airy front to hide all of the venomous competition at stake between them. Nothing that would end in bloodshed, Nines refused to befall to the idiocy of the royal bloodline from past generations have. They cheated, robbed, murdered, and snuck around one another. Always looking for a chance to take the throne. Imbeciles, that only squandered the crown’s good name and put a damper on citizen moral. But they do play to win. 

More often than not, the brothers confided in one another. A close bond that neither had with another soul- people were too thirsty for power, attention, a chance to be apart of their superior family. Nines absolutely despised it and hated every single one of the fools who tried to throw themselves at him while Connor appreciated the attention. Called it the love and loyalty of the people, gave back as kindly and as minutely as he was allowed to. Amanda didn’t favor when they broke her guidelines, so Connor worked endless loopholes. 

Mostly in the afternoons, they sat out by the garden and watched over the lake from their spot. There was no wind to ripple the water, to disturb the peace, and Nines has read that on Earth such a thing happens. How absurd. But he was very interested in seeing it for himself one day, when Amanda let him attempt a political union with the Earthen Republic. Even if Eartherns were plain, ugly, and gullible creatures, their planet was not. Earth was highly rich in resources, things Luna desperately needed. And as tension between both countries rang high and loud, Amanda was working on a plan. 

Call it dirty, but it was a plan, indeed. A plan to take Earth by force if their terms kept being refused.

Instead he and his brother drank in the sights of the sky. The Luna sky. A void of endless black that combusted into the vast universe, containing billions and trillions of stars that burned bright and hot with their gaseous states. How they twinkled with a fine tune and a pulsing beat of power, and if he stared hard enough, he could make out the small blue dot of Earth in the distance. It looked like a tiny pebble in the grand scheme of the limitless horizon. A clear dome hovered above their heads, supplying the oxygen they needed to breath and protecting them from the unkind elements of their surroundings. 

Connor originally taught him how to tell constellations apart, what comets and stars to make wishes on, and what were just masked satellites blinking from afar. 

The artificial light they used to replicate the transition from night to day, since the sun’s rotation was a prominent difference of the moon to the blue planet, shone on politely in a mock iteration of an afternoon in the American Republic. 

“How well are you fairing in your end of our bargain?” Nines chimes, lifting a perfect brow as Connor finally made his move. He left his queen unprotected. 

“I have made progress.” Connor chirps, straightening his back as his gaze watches his brother’s. Prim, proper, and predatory. 

“Such as?” Such a silly prince, Nines will admit. He has his horse jump a few of his twin’s men, snatching them and hauling them to his side. “Do not hold back on my account, dear brother.”

“He is not the most persuasive, and my seduction seems more grating then…fruitful.” Connor moves his rook, right into the perfect place. This win is almost laughable. 

"There is no snake that your eyes cannot charm.” Check and mate. What a lovely addition to his afternoon. 

“How are you coming along?” Connor’s hands slide easily across the table top, switching their sides and putting pieces back in their places. He begins a new game and makes the first move despite Nines’ win. Spoiled brat, Nines has to smile. 

“I am excited for this challenge.” Nines is confident as he says this, because Gavin Reed is a challenge indeed. 

A guard that cannot be swayed, cannot fall out of his line of duty- his sense of right and wrong, of his rank. Nines has never known a more loyal guard, never known such an honest man before. And it makes a deep, ugly desire churn inside his gut. How respectful Gavin is despite how obviously Nines pushes his buttons, the jobs the thuamaturges task him with, the shifts and sleepless nights. His bottled anger being stored inside his chest, barely even scraping his field of energy as Nines feels for a slip into his mind. It’s as malleable as ever, as a guard’s should be, but he detects something within it. A fierceness to it, a sharp edge that he finds he could cut himself on. 

Nines has never before seen anything like it, never known such a thing could ever be. He was enraptured. 

Being the prince, he gets what he wants. Never has he had to fight like this, try so hard for even a lingering stare. Gavin keeps Nines on his toes, and the thrill he gets shouldn’t be natural and he should be appalled. But he isn’t. Because it’s so different, so unthinkable. 

Nines is aware of how attractive his glamour is. He is told endlessly, daily; his courts bowing to him, his people serving him with their lives, the thaumaturges respectful compliments. Nines knows he is irresistible, knows that he is sexy and handsome, beautiful, flawless. He knows because he makes himself appear that way. His wit is never to be questioned and constantly cemented whenever he is brought in for trials and in the way he regards the sectors during a video stream. He has never been turned down, never been rejected or had to work for much of anything. People threw themselves at him, for his charms and his looks, for his position and power. 

Everyone desires him. Longed, yearned, and thirsted. And Nines gave them nothing. Because he was better than that, then them. 

Far too smart to believe false words that would end in murder or betrayal. There was no one worth his times, let alone affections. 

But then he met Gavin Reed. 

Gavin Reed who, constantly, defied him. Who never sullied a job, always showed up for his shifts and preformed without error no matter the hour or length. Who witnessed Nines use his raw charms, his baiting lines and flirty speeches, his suggestive movements and lingering touches. Nines wore what he thought would be enough, a slip of the arm, a taste of his collarbone, a dip on his back, a slit down the thigh. And yet, not once. 

Not once could he make Gavin end the serious, blank stare. Not once could he feel Gavin’s eyes dance around his figure as he waltzed into a room. No matter how he tried, what he wore and did and said, not even how he touched the guard-

Gavin didn’t dare turn sleazy, didn’t even try to steal looks when his back was turned. Gavin was commendable. He was reliable. 

Nines had been furious at first, never having failed a single bet between him and his brother. He has never failed a single assignment from Amanda or from his studies. He has only ever succeeded and only ever planned to- he was far too great and knowledgeable for failures and yet, Gavin Reed had left him bested. But he fell in a spiraling vortex quickly after.

Gavin Reed, who’s grey-green eyes caught the light just right and seemed to shine in the dulled room. Gavin Reed who’s step never faltered or strayed from his- who jumped in front of him to every person for any and every reason, in a means to protect him. The guard who never let anyone get away with whispered comments or dirty looks, who broke arms and sprained wrists when a hand ghosted just too close. The Gavin Reed who took into accordance the best escape routes and plans of action incase of an assassination. 

The Gavin Reed who gave him such a thrill. 

Who was not easy. Who did not fling onto Nines at a pen drop. 

Who, even after Nines ignited contact and sucked a deep and dark bruise into his neck, hadn’t even tried to grope or grab. He’d ushered Nines right to bed, said he’d call for some breakfast and left it at that. Nines had sensed the desire inside him, the temptation he was fighting inside his bioelectricity. How easy it would’ve been to simply give in; and Gavin had done the opposite. Had nearly tipped right over the edge and kissed Nines but retreated and had thrown a blanket over the prince’s shoulders, tucking him into his grand bed and leaving him be for the night. 

Before he left, Nines hasn’t gotten over those words, not even a week after, he had whispered; “Sleep well, Nines. I’ll guard you until you wake.”

Nines. Not ‘my prince’, not ‘your highness’, and not ‘your grace.’ 

No regality, no status names, no role reminder. It was his name. And Gavin had only said it for a second time. 

But it sounded so sweet. Called to him so tender and mild, Nines does like the sound of his own name, but when Gavin said it- it meant more. It made him feel something squirming inside his chest and swirling inside his stomach. His heart jumped and he was at a loss on how to proceed. 

Yes, it was a bet. But now it was much more, Nines had personally invested into the challenge. 

“He isn’t smitten with you?” Connor’s confusion is exactly what Nines’ of the past would’ve responded with. Now, he purrs at it.

“Indeed not, but that is what makes the game all the better.” He concedes, tutting a finger to stop whatever rushed lecture Connor wished to shoot at him. “It seems we are both at odds in our quest, though I foresee your failure and count on my success.”

He saw his twin’s lips twitches up in a smile, a devilish smile. It throws mistrust inside Nines’ sternum, the glamour he uses twisting it until there’s a pleasant ease and Nines might find it silly to think he ever thought against his sibling. But he knows manipulation when he sees it- senses it, so he combats it. Breaks the bioelectricity and shoots a nauseating emotion at his dear brother, schooling him back and getting a small blow of painless revenge. 

“You realize you’re playing with fire,” Nines sings. He notes that Connor grows an air of seriousness to him. 

“And you’re playing with a future sovereign.” 

Ah, quite the blow. He’d forgotten how silver tongued Connor could be. Before Nines could retort, a thaumaturge bows before them both and waits for the brothers to turn to him. 

“My princes,” They purr. A red coated thaumaturge with a shark’s appearance, definitely not from his court. No doubt, Amanda’s or newly promoted. “There is a trial that awaits you, summoned by Her Imperial Majesty herself, if you please follow after me.”

Nines turned towards Connor, faking a cheery smile- it seeming small on his face. He doesn’t like overly expressing himself very much, the completely opposite to his whimsical brother. “I suppose our game must be finished some other time. A pity.”

“Maybe for you,” Connor supplies as a double negative. Flipping the ends of his shawl over his shoulder and rising. Nines has to scoff at the arrogance, standing himself before following after the second-in-command thaumaturge. What a silly title, what little command, it must poison one’s head. Corrupt morals incredibly quickly; to be so close to power, but held back by a thin thread. Isn’t it maddening?

He knows the feeling, the envy- though, he’s smarter then to let it control him. 

He knows better, however, then to wordlessly vent these frustrations. Words have the power to condemn, if never spoken, one could never be tied. It is a shame, however, that Gavin is not on duty. No, some puny little guard takes his place- someone Nines has no interest in knowing or looking at. They aren’t worth his time. He needs to check the schedules, pinpoint the exact time Gavin will take his shift. Nines needs to see him again, wonders how much ice he’s melted around that stoic guard. A kiss is suppose to melt the coldest of hearts, or that’s how eartherns up-played them, and Nines made sure to leave many. 

He glances at Connor, notes how his eyes sweep to the left of himself- behind him. Ah, he must be looking for his own personal challenge and how obvious must he be? Perhaps only he notices, but he knew if the queen was around, she’d call him out right away. Nines grins, picks his pace up to softly nudge his elbow into his shorter twin’s arm. Once he has the attention he craves, he smiles with a venomous curl to his lips. He plans on playing his brother like a fiddle. 

Connor paid him a warm, beaming smile. Batted his eyelashes, and carried on undisturbed. Great composure- Nines is irked. But he’d never lose his cool in the first place with an off-to-the-side glance. Sometimes he wondered how much better of a king he’d make then his twin, but then he remembers the people and all their complaints, of all the complications and the Earthern Republic’s constant badgering and the dwindling resources, and he’s grateful that responsibility doesn’t fall onto his shoulders. He pities Connor, to a small degree, but he will be there to help out if he’s allowed. They might be stubborn and might refuse based on their own pride, but Connor knows how to manage time and patience. And Nines is better with war and tactile strategies, he’d be a fool to not use Nines as a consultant. But that thought is far beyond them now, for future indulgence, if and when Amanda passes. 

“We have arrived your highnesses,” The Thaumaturge bows. Holding open the doors for both of the princes and Nines has to walk in beside his brother, perfectly in step, perfectly poised, and they part to take up both sides of the grand throne. 

It’s a spacious room; high ceilings of marble and white, marvelous tiles and beautiful stairs to lead up to the royalty that rests upon the decorated seats. Towards the sides of the room is the richest and noblest of families, all as glamorous as can be with glamoured jewels, makeup, and hairstyles. Rubied lips and rosy cheeks, elegant gowns and suits, extremely extra fake fox furs and hats and skinned shoes and boots. They all had a glow inside their eyes, a hunger for power and authority, a twisted look that screamed of greed. Endless and total control. Nines didn’t trust any of these vultures no matter how much they kissed up to him- which many did. A lot. 

Amanda’s gaze glowered over him, preening and scrutinizing from her throne. She had a beautiful and silky shawl that covered both her shoulders and bared her collarbones. A lovely, snowy white and baby blue that shines in the form of gemstones, small squares of diamonds flickering across her arms and neck, a heavy crown of simple metals and jewels that matched her skin to a flawless T. Her hair braided back and into neat rows against her scalp with a flourishing and exquisite gown to bring the entire look together. Her set expression schooled the room to silence, studious gaze licking up both princes until she deemed them enough and moved forward with the trial. 

“Thank you for coming,” She begins and rakes her gaze over the small crowd of noblemen. Her finger traced the patterns on the wood of her throne, golden and shining, elegant and empowering. It’s the biggest chair, flanked by both of their’s who seem smaller in comparison. “We shall be discussing the cause of a small dispute inside RM-9, your patience and deliberation will be greatly appreciated. Let’s begin.” 

Nines let his back meet the cushion of his chair, bored expression present as he watched the big doors open. A load of guards marched the prisoner into the room, surrounding them. He hears the chains chime as they stumble, manhandled and yanked, to the center of the floor before the crown. As the guards part to take up their positions of protection around the room, and thaumaturges flank their sides, he spies his guard in the middle. He sees Gavin standing just a hair away from the back of this criminal, gaze blank but holding something quite fierce inside. Like attempting to smolder a flame- not exactly succeeding, but not entirely failing. There was life there, a stubbornness, and Nines felt invigorated just watching it. 

It was so much more than the patient or bored gaze he’s seen countless times. 

“Is this the perpetrator?” Amanda’s smooth voice called, pulling all the attention back to her in the room. Nines could already hear the judgement inside her tone and knew this fellow was done for. A pity- they had nice blonde hair and a good pair of blue eyes. 

He let his will slip into their mind, just to sense them out. They were anxious, insanely nervous, but resolute about something. Determined. He wondered what and why; didn’t they know it was futile? The crown would find out and snuff them all out, as they’ve done before. As they will do and will continue to do. It seemed Gavin’s manpower wasn’t needed but a bird does take flight when frightened, not that this one could get far if they clipped his wings. He was a bit amused to see where this went. Sitting up a bit straighter, his eyes shining just a bit clearer- Nines watched.

He made sure his glamour was smooth, clear skin and twinkling eyes, perfect hair and an impressive figure. He wanted Gavin’s eyes to linger on him, to stare as if in a daydream, only it never happened. Gavin was smitten with his job and _not_ him. It was a little infuriating but added a thrill to the chase. 

“Yes. His name is Simon, from the lumber sector.” Called someone’s voice, though Nines didn’t pay attention nor care who it was. 

“Lumber sector? What’s someone such as yourself,” The queen’s voice carried a heavy weight to it. A panging nark, deep disapproval. Her eyebrows screwed together morphing her features into a beautiful anger. The court snickered, “doing in a regolith mining sector?”

They didn’t answer. And Nines has enough foresight to understand something bigger was at play, nobody snuck into sectors. Unless-

Oh. Sweet, sweet, Blackburn. 

Someone was attempting a revolution. An overthrow. 

How sinful. How fun. He would have lots of entertainment killing them all.

“If you do not speak, I will force your hand and condemn you.” She snarled, a hard curl to her lip. Her nails scratched into the armrest of her throne, marking up the wood. “Do you wish for that humiliation?”

They did not speak, again. Gavin growled, the first expression Nines has seen him make all evening. And it’s such a wonderful look on his face, a lovely little scowl that looked absolutely perfect on his complexion. He’s grabbing a fistful of blond hair and yanking Simon’s head up. Nines just barely catches him whispering, “Speak when you’re phckin’ spoken to, asshat.”

Vulgar. Different. Definitely not royal or anywhere close.

Nines is too attracted. It’s wrong, but Gavin makes it work. Makes something deep inside him awaken in a primal hunger he has no control over. 

“Very well.” Amanda sighs, though there is a twinkle inside her iris that suggests that she was looking forward to this next part. Her hand, adorned with countless, priceless rings raised as she beckoned for Gavin to move- but not before making him hand Simon the weapon on his hip. “You leave me no choice, we cannot allow any imperfections among our beloved citizens. You threaten for me to establish a blockade, no food to the outer sectors. Do you wish to starve your people?” 

Simon began to hiccup and sob as his own arm took the dagger, slowly bringing it up to his eyes. His hand was forced into stillness but everyone knew it’d be shaking if he was in control of it. He was Amanda’s prey now. Under the queen’s glamour and utter disposal, there was no escaping it. Amanda’s reputation was half built on her extraordinary control of her gift. The powerful queen; her title to go into the history books. Nines watched Gavin’s face and noticed that it showed something reflected inside his emerald greens. How interesting. 

“A pity. You turn against your Queen and then your own people?” She scoffed, the edge of the blade cutting ever so slowly into his cheek as it pressed into his skin. At a squint from her, blood welled up from the small incision and trickled down his porcelain complexion. Gavin pointedly didn’t look at the prisoner but instead, at the queen. Her voice morphed, sickeningly sweet and gentle, “All this can stop, if you tell me what I wish I know. My dear Simon- why suffer for someone who no longer stands at your side?”

“He will always be at my side!” The blond snapped, a dejected huff leaving his lips as he tried to fight against the glamour claiming him. Gavin glared from his position at him but made no move to correct it. Instead, Amanda looked disappointed and they all watched with a small stunned look as the knife plunged into his thigh, eclipsing a cry of pain from the small boy. 

“You need to learn manners.” Is all the queen says, speaking in a venomous chant that made even the most arrogant and haughty noblemen freeze. 

Gavin looked pensive. Huh.

“My Queen,” Nines speaks up. All eyes of the court turn to watch him. Some shocked, others intrigued, and few wanting. It wasn’t common for anyone besides the sovereign to talk. To speak up is stepping on her authority; but Nines felt too compelled. And he knew his place, knew how to manipulate the situation into his favor- if need be. “I wish to keep him. May I practice on this one and pull answers from his feeble mind? He could be my pet once he’s done. It’d be a better use then sending him with one of the families- a redemption, if you will.” 

Connor’s eyebrows quirked, narrowed just a degree, as he turned to look at Nines. Questioning his motives but all he did was give his sibling a patient grin and await their mother’s deliberation. After a moment it finally came, the court drinking in the seconds with baited breath while her majesty kept them all in suspense. Nines was confident in his request, since he rarely made them and upheld her expectations to the very last detail. He earned the right to ask but whether he damaged her fragile pride was another story. But it seemed he had evaded the latter, which saved them all grief, and he was happy with his answer. 

“You may have him. I expect an explanation no later than my next meeting. Am I clear?”

Nines smiles, making sure it was sweet and precious as it lit up the trial room. “Crystal, your majesty. Thank you.”

“Are there any other matters that I must see to?” When the room remained quiet, she waved her hand in dismissal. Too bothered to take on anymore obscenities for the moment. 

Nines was quick to take his stand while the families shuffled out of the room and walked across the tiled floor towards the panting and whimpering prisoner and his guard. He knelt when he approached the traitor and held Simon’s chin between his slender fingers, staring unimpressed at the tears left unshed inside his eyes. His hands were unmistakably shaking, the stab was quite deep. Walking would most likely be difficult if not agonizing, Nines let his head drop from his fingers as he hummed in thought. Standing up with a straightened back while he felt the eyes he’s waited for finally fall upon him. 

“How much medical knowledge do you know, sir Reed?” 

Gavin seemed to stutter inside his own mind for a moment, Nines’ blue eyes catching those mesmerizing greens as he waited for an answer. He loved scrambling Gavin’s mind, feeling the reeling it did, trying to come up with a respectable answer. How amazing would it be if he gave up the professionalism? Taking another second, Nines got an answer. Oh, how thrown together it was. Something inside his chest fluttered.

“I can stitch it and bandage it, my Prince. Though if it’s punctured anything important I’m afraid that’s out of my range.” 

Nines nods. “Bring him to the zoo, he’ll make a decent attraction while we watch him. We’ll administer the care there.”

Gavin goes to salute, a fist curling and brought to the center of his chest as he bowed. Nines made sure no one was in the room, no one but Connor lingering, and he made another move on the guard. His hands cupped Gavin’s jaw, bringing his eyes back up to meet his own as he gave the gentlest smile he was capable of. The guard freezes up, tenses and Nines knows the action isn’t comfortable with his recovering injury so he backs off after a beat. 

“I’ll see you there,” he bids goodbye as he makes his way past the two. As his steps echo around the room, a purposeful action, Nines stops. He knows he has Gavin’s attention. He knows it and uses it; turning his head and fluttering his eyes at his guard from the doorway. He calls in the sweetest, most flirtatious voice he has, “Don’t leave me waiting.”

He thrives on the blush he created across olive skin and retreats soon after.

**Author's Note:**

> Enter Simon  
> Simon: oh fuck,,,markus send help,,
> 
> should I make another part to this?? lemme know and also tell me your thoughts, my loves!!


End file.
